


getting on like a tent on fire

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [88]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping, Exhibitionism, F/M, Humor, Meet-Weird, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 19:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11424639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: This week was supposed to be about finding his inner peace and balance.Instead, Castiel was going to chafe his dick raw with all the frantic masturbating.





	getting on like a tent on fire

Castiel’s solo camping retreats were usually a time of quiet contemplation. A time to reconnect more deeply with nature, and rejuvenate his spirits. Usually deep woods primal camping was what he needed, to isolate and meditate in peace. But with it being a chilly early November, he had figured the Hocking Hills state park wouldn’t be too crowded. There were lovely hiking trails and several lakes with kayaking and canoeing rentals. It had been ages since he’d been canoeing.

As expected, after the modest weekend crowd cleared out, there was only one other occupied camp site aside from Castiel on Monday. A couple, occupying a site three spots down from Castiel’s shady patch of paradise.

It was quiet and restful during the day. Exactly what he needed, stretched out in the grass under dappled sunlight with a sweater rolled up beneath his head and a book in his hands. Castiel expected it to be a calm week.

But, even three camp sites down from him, he could hear the couple having sex at night.

Very loud, very vigorous sex.

-

Castiel would not deny that he had a healthy, and varied, sexual appetite. But these two. They were insatiable. As soon as dusk settled, he could hear them. You might think that a few soft moans and the creak of an air mattress would be easily muffled through the steady rise and fall of the forest’s noise - the owls and frogs and insects and creatures rustling through the brush.

But oh, no.

She was a screamer.

He could swear he heard the repetitive, loud and sharp crack of someone being spanked at one point. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which one of them would be the giver or the receiver.

Eventually, it would die down, and Castiel would fall asleep, but several nights that week he was woken up in the middle of the night by their noises again. And in the morning, sun just under the horizon line and the sky gray, mist creeping through the hills.

This week was supposed to be about finding his inner peace and balance.

Instead, Castiel was going to chafe his dick raw with all the frantic masturbating.

-

He saw the guy in the shower house a few times. Never did get a name, but the guy smiled at him politely in passing and gave a cheerful hello.

Gods, he was beautiful. Wearing only swim trunks and flip flops, long hair loose and messy, all ruffled after the shower. Sculpted abs and an iliac furrow to make you cry. Even his feet were graceful. And Castiel, he couldn’t blame the guy’s partner on climbing that every chance she could get.

-

Castiel passed her a few times to the water pump. Dark hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, always scowling and swatting at bugs. She wore jeans and spaghetti strap shirts. Castiel very politely tried not to stare at the swell of her cleavage or the patterns of her tattoos the one time he went to the water pump when she was already there, half bent over, grunting as she lay her weight on the handle.

He would have offered to assist her, if he hadn’t had the distinct feeling that she might eviscerate him for suggesting that she needed his help.

-

Castiel learned that his name was Sam. She screamed it loud enough. He didn’t learn what her name was, though, from overhearing their frenzied night-time activities. Sam was more of a grunter.

-

Come Thursday, Castiel was not well rested, nor had he managed to reach any insight. Other than that his libido was not actually calming down with middle age, as he had supposed, but rather that he needed to get out more.

At least he had gone canoeing a few times, seen the waterfalls, taken some excellent photos of a doe and her fawn.

He was fairly certain that the couple three camp-sites down were well aware that he could hear them at night - and several times in the middle of the day. By Thursday, he suspected that they found amusement in it, if the woman’s sly smile the last time he saw her was anything to go by.

So he had no compunctions of overhearing what he shouldn’t or acting inappropriately when he went to bed. That night, he laid down in his tent with one of the window flaps open to the screen, and slicked his hand with spit in anticipation while he waited.

The light that flickered on in their tent , obstructed by vegetation but visible, was different from the white l.e.d. glow of a lantern. Erratic and more orange, Castiel wondered if they had lit some candles for the romance factor. That didn’t seem like a safe idea.

He didn’t dwell much on it when he heard “Yeah, shit, eat my ass, you gonna fuck me there with that big dick tonight?”

As the week had progressed, they’d grown louder and more narrative.

Castiel couldn’t help wonder if it was for his benefit.

It was very easy to conjure a visual of her kneeling at the edge of an air mattress, plump ass pushed up, Sam with his face buried between pale thighs. Castiel wondered if he put his hair in a ponytail when he had sex, or if he left it loose, let it stick to his forehead with sweat.

“Oh shit!”

That… did not sound like a sexy 'oh shit'.

Sitting up, hand still on his dick, Castiel squinted through the window screen on his tent.

“Fuck toss the gear out!”

“Fuck that!”

Something was on fire.

It was their tent.

Oh shit.

Fumbling with the zipper on his tent, Castiel scrambled out and across his camp-site to the picnic table, grabbed the mostly full five gallon water tank and ran through the trees cutting across the empty sites between them.

He realized, twigs and pebbles and prickly thorny plants scraping his feet up, that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. Or clothes. Branches and brush smacked against him, but he arrived, panting, to help douse the raging fire of their collapsed, melting nylon tent.

There were a few duffel bags thrown across the camp-site, the woman pouring their own supply of water onto the tent when Castiel joined her. Sam found a thick blanket in their supplies, and once the water had tamed the fire somewhat, he started smacking the blanket over it.

Sweating from the heat and smudged with smoke, probably bleeding from running naked through the camp grounds like an idiot, Castiel stood with his empty water container.

The couple were still naked too.

And somehow, despite all expectations, Sam had a bigger dick than Castiel had though.

“Uh. Thanks. For the help.” Sam said, holding the still slightly smoking blanket in front of his crotch. 

Castiel held his water container in front of his crotch and coughed, throat a little raw from the smoke. “You’re welcome.”

The woman put both hands on her hips, smiled at him. Or it might have been a leer. “Well, aren’t you just a big hero.”

“Meg,” the guy sighed, “Be nice.”

As the glowing ruins of the tent died down, the dark settled. At least the sky was relatively cloud free and the moon was mostly full, silver light illuminating the tiny clearing of the camp-site, and the awkward trio gathered there.

“Seriously, thanks. I’m Sam. What’s your name?”

Sam held out a hand to shake, which Castiel accepted after stepping further around the smoking pile of tent, the stench of burning nylon stinging his nose. He did not mention that he already knew that the guy’s name was Sam because he’d heard Meg screaming it.

“I’m Castiel.”

And because he was blunt and clueless, Castiel found it necessary to ask, “Why did you have an open flame in your tent tonight? That’s highly unsafe.”

“Been watching us, huh?” Meg asked without it sounding much like a question, more like a smug observation.

“We ran out of batteries for the lantern.” Sam told him.

Castiel stared at the charred ruins. “You couldn’t just fornicate in the dark like normal people?”

Meg’s laughter was raucous and unabashed. “Hey, come on, wouldn’t you want to watch all of that mounting you?”

When she gestured at Sam, he coughed and pursed his lips, giving her a look that only made her laugh more.

“That’s a good point.” Castiel conceded.

-

When Castiel had offered to share his tent, it was honestly an act of good intentions. It was too late to find a motel to stay at. It might rain. It was too cold to sleep in the open air. He certainly hadn’t been the first one to initiate sex.

It was a small tent, only intended for him and his gear, and he didn’t have an air mattress. Just padding and blankets. So it was cozy between the three of them.

Of course he had put on some boxers. Before Sam sat him down at the picnic table and, using Castiel’s lantern equipped with working batteries, had cleaned and picked briars out of his feet. While Meg rifled through his chest of food supplies, helping herself to a granola bar.

Castiel wouldn’t make any assumptions about the sort of relationship they had. He had only the best of intentions. And half a chubby, but that wasn’t his fault.

After they’d cleaned up and zipped themselves into the tent for the night, Meg didn’t turn the lantern off. She set it into the corner. Straddled Castiel’s lap and scratched through his hair, grinding against him, before she asked, “So, do you want to watch him fuck me or do you want him to fuck you?”

And for all that Sam had appeared the shy nice guy, as soon as Castiel said, “Fuck me,” Sam turned savage.

Although Castiel had come into the woods seeking a peaceful retreat, he had to admit that sex could be rather enlightening as well. Certainly, with Sam’s wide hands pulling his hips back and that cock buried so deep inside him Castiel could almost taste it, with his face squeezed between Meg’s thighs as she screamed his name, certainly there was something to be learned here.

He could figure it out later, after he’d licked her taste from his lips, feeling turned inside out and tenderized by Sam. After they curled up around him like bookends. Or two slices of bread held together by jelly. After the next morning when Meg rode his dick and Sam fucked his face, cradling his head and thumbing away the overwhelmed tears. After that.

-

Castiel was still working on figuring it out, weeks later, after they’d traded contact info and found that they lived a mere hour away from each other.

An ice cream parlor wasn’t the first place he’d of thought they might suggest. But watching Sam licking around a rainbow sprinkled frozen yogurt cone with the intensity and focus of an eager child while Meg slid her foot up between Castiel’s legs under the table, he realized something.

Perhaps the only thing to learn was to accept the good things that life brought his way. Whether they came through intention, or a tent fire.


End file.
